Mort and Cleveland's Escapades
by 0hMo0o0ort
Summary: Mort Goldman seems like a typical meek pharmacist, but there's a dark side to him he's kept to himself... until now.


Mort and Cleveland walked into the empty theater. The movie hadn't started yet.

"Thanks for buying my ticket, Mort," said Cleveland. "I am surprised you were willing to pay full-price!"

Cleveland figured Mort was lonely after Muriel's death. He was glad to see Mort putting himself out there again. The situation reminded him of the fallout of his divorce with Loretta - nothing but a gallon of chocolate chip ice cream and Quagmire's used sex doll to keep him company.

"Some things are worth paying the full price," said Mort, who gave him a stereotypically Jewish smirk. He relaxed his face before Cleveland could find it suspicious.

"Plus, when we're at the 2 p.m. showing, it's not like I paid a lot."

Mort wasn't feeling lonely after Muriel's death - he actually was kind of relieved. Now he could be his own man, for better or for worse, without a nagging wife to betray. Diane Simmons put the knife in her back before he figuratively had the chance. He finally had the chance to do what he always wanted outside of their marriage.

Mort led the way as they took a seat in the top of the theater. Cleveland didn't mind. They were about four rows from the top, right in the middle.

"This is just the best view," Mort said, as the two sat down.

He really just wanted to do what he wanted unnoticed.

"That's true," said Cleveland, as he put a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

About a dozen others filed in over the next few minutes, and the lights went down.

Mort knew what he was going to do, but knew he needed to wait for the right moment.

A few minutes passed and the previews began to start. Mort couldn't help but crack a smile knowing what was about to happen.

Mort placed his hand on Cleveland's thigh. It had the size and consistency of a fatty pork loin. Mort began tapping his fingers on Cleveland's thigh and gave it a good squeeze.

"Mort, do you know that's my thigh?" whispered Cleveland.

"Oh, sorry, Cleveland," Mort replied, trying to sound meek. "I thought it was the arm rest."

He knew it wasn't the arm rest.

Mort took a handful of popcorn, knowing he asked for it with extra butter. He took a very large handful, absolutely covering his hands in butter. He had a plan in mind.

20 minutes had passed, and the previews were finally over. Apparently, there were a lot of movies set to come out. Cleveland hated every one of them - none of them had Denzel Washington.

Mort knew Cleveland was finally relaxed to the point things could happen and he might not immediately notice.

Mort planned it out before that afternoon — he'd sit with his right, dominant hand farther away. It was easier that way. Mort unbuttoned Cleveland's dark blue slacks meticulously. Cleveland had the popcorn in his lap, and with his attention focused on the movie, which had just begun.

Mort was able to trick Cleveland into believing he was just going for another handful of popcorn. He clearly wasn't, though. Mort pretended to drop his candy on the floor, and took a second pretending he was feeling up the floor. He knew within 10 seconds he'd be feeling up something — or someone else.

Mort pulled down Cleveland's pants. Cleveland felt embarrassed — was he eating too much junk food, causing his button to pop? He went to pull up his pants and he felt Mort's pubic ginger Jew fro.

"Mort, what the hell?"

"Cleveland, this is why you pay full-price for some things."

Mort slapped Cleveland in the face. The sound from the movie was louder than the slap. Mort then sat down and picked up Cleveland, bending him over his lap.

"Mort, what are you doing?"

"You'll see soon enough."

Mort then began shoving his fingers deep inside of Cleveland's ass. Mort's preparation paid off as he began to use the butter to lube up his bony fingers.

Cleveland screamed in agony.

"NO! NO! SOMEONE HELP!"

The other people in the theater began to get angry.

"Shut up, man! We're trying to watch the movie!" someone yelled at the front of the theater. He could make out what Mort was doing but didn't really care.

"Yeah, keep your mouth shut!" a woman yelled, not caring enough to see what all the commotion was.

"Sorry, folks," Mort said. "I'll be sure to keep him down.

Mort then pulled down his pants with one hand, the other still going to town on Cleveland's now-aching anus.

Mort planned ahead to go commando, knowing what was going to happen. Mort's Jew dick was something out of the Torah — a sinister serpent surrounded by a burning bush.

He began shoving his dick in Cleveland's mouth. Cleveland tried biting down, but gummy bears caked his teeth, essentially ending any chance he had at using them defensively. All was going to Mort's devilish, unexpectedly cunning plan.

Cleveland began crying loudly, with tears streaming down his face. Mort successfully muffled Cleveland's cries, appeasing both moviegoers and his brutally sweaty, out of practice penis.

Mort liked how sticky Cleveland's mouth made his dick and quickly made Cleveland's insides as white as they were figuratively. Cleveland's seat and body were dripping with popcorn butter and cum.

"See you around," said Mort. "I'm sure you'll find your own ride home."

Mort pulled up his pants with his dirty hands, covered in butter, sweat, tears, and shit, and walked out of the theater.

Cleveland sat there, in pain, absolutely stunned. Then, he cracked a smile and laid back.

"That's just how I always wanted it."


End file.
